Stop, Drop and Kill
by trickstersink
Summary: Karma's life was perfect...and then it wasn't. One minute, she's sitting in her office, the next she's locked up in Arkham wondering how she managed to kill six people. One-shot for now. Rating might become M if I continue. Romance in future chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**Stop, Drop and Kill**

**Disclaimer: **Don't own Batman or Joker or Scarecrow or anyone else I might throw in here that you recognize. I only own my OC.

I went insane on a Wednesday morning. There was nothing special about that day. Nothing out of the ordinary happened. Everything in my carefully structured life was perfect. I woke up and got ready for work. I had some fruit for breakfast and bought a coffee on the way to work. I entered the bank through the front doors, greeted the doorman, had a few short conversations with a few clerks that I was on a first-name basis with and then made my way to my office. My assistant, Laura, brought me my second cup of coffee and offered me a blueberry muffin.

_Such a sweet kid._

She gave me my schedule, which was crammed with back-to-back meetings, but that wasn't uncommon. I was a busy woman.

I ate my muffin and sipped my coffee slowly, savoring the taste. I can still taste the French vanilla. Five minutes later, I headed into a board meeting, fought with several arrogant men and a nasty bitch of a secretary. Then I had a private meeting with the President of the bank, who had always been a sexist pig. He was displeased with how I had handled the previous meeting and threatened to fire me on the spot.

When he left, I sat behind my desk and just stared at the closed door he'd disappeared behind. I held a sleek, silver pen with the bank logo on the side in my hand, tapping it on my desk calendar, which was covered with scribbles and post-its.

_Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap._

My heart started beating a little faster, matching the fast tapping of my pen. Thoughts swirled in my head so fast it created a white haze over my eyes for a brief moment.

Suddenly, I stopped tapping the pen, everything around me and inside of me freezing. My heart seemed to halt in that instant, standing still, my blood freezing in my veins as one viciously angry thought surged to the front of my brain.

_I hate this fucking place!_

And then…nothing. I don't remember what happened after that. My last memory is thinking that thought. I can sometimes still feel the cool metal of that silver pen in my hands, that hideous bank logo glaring up at me. I can still taste my last coffee and my last blueberry muffin, which quite frankly, tasted like shit. The blueberries had been sour and the muffin had been dry and bitter.

Needless to say, I was a bit surprised when I woke up in Arkham Asylum, strapped to a bed in the infirmary. I wasn't frightened or even much confused. I was amused. I couldn't sit up because of the straps, but I could turn my head. The room was white. There's really no other way to describe it. It was white, but not a pretty white. It was a dirty white with age stains on the walls and a bit of mold in the corners. The room was wide and long, filled with many hospital beds. The beds and sheets were white, of course. White, white, white.

I also noticed, upon raising my head the few inches the straps allowed to look down at myself, that the jumpsuit that I wore was white.

_I've never been a fan of white…_

The infirmary was surprisingly empty. The curtains were drawn around the bed immediately to my right so I guessed someone was there. And three beds to my left lay a weeping man with fiery red hair. I really didn't want to know what he was weeping about.

The dirty white doors at the end of the infirmary suddenly swung open and a tall woman wearing a lab coat and a very blank expression came waltzing in.

She smiled, her expression softening, when she saw that I was awake. "Miss Williams, you're awake!" she exclaimed.

"Apparently," I retorted dully, raising an eyebrow at her. I didn't like her smile. It seemed so…fake.

"How are you feeling?" she said, now at my side with her back to the curtain. She pulled a thin flashlight from the pocket of her lab coat and flashed it in my eyes. "Feel any dizziness? Nausea? Experiencing any headaches?"

I narrowed my eyes at her, suddenly suspicious. "No," I growled. "Why?"

Her flashlight, which was silver and reminded me of my pen, hesitated over my face and her expression turned curious. She pulled her arm back and pocketed the flashlight.

"Miss Williams, do you know where you are?" she asked slowly, carefully.

My eyes flickered around the room again. I took a guess. "A hospital? If so, you really should look into getting that mold removed. It's unhealthy."

Her small frown told me I was wrong. About the hospital part, at least. "Miss Williams, this isn't exactly a hospital. This room here is the infirmary. We're in the maximum-security ward in Arkham Asylum. You were admitted seven days ago."

My jaw dropped a couple fractions and I gaped at her for a moment before snapping my jaw shut again. "Arkham. Maximum-security. Admitted seven days ago? I've been out that long?"

She hesitated. "Er, no. Not exactly. Technically, you've only been out for three days. You were mostly conscious before that."

My eyebrows shot up in surprised and I laughed in shock. "Seriously? I don't remember any of it." She opened her mouth to speak, but I cut her off. "May I ask what I've been admitted for? And who the hell are you?"

Her posture straightened as she introduced herself. "I'm Emily Morgans. I work as a nurse here." She hesitated before answering my other question. "Miss Williams, you had a bit of a mental breakdown last Wednesday…"

"And…?" I prodded, slightly amused. _Me? Mental breakdown?_

"And you killed six people." she said shortly, her expression blank again. Her dull blue eyes gave her away, though. They were dark with apprehension.

I stared at her for a moment, letting this information process. After a second, I felt some kind of pressure building in my chest, clawing its way up my throat.

I laughed. I laughed hard, my sides burning with it. I clenched my eyes shut against the tears that leaked from the corners of my eyes. The straps held me firmly in place as my whole body shook with violent laughter.

"Miss Williams! _What_ is so funny?" Emily demanded, her hands on her hips and anger seeping into her features.

I laughed harder, unable to control myself.

A very pissed off and disgusted Emily Morgans turned on her heel and stormed out of the room, chased away by my psychotic laughter.

…

"Why are you here, Karma?" Dr. Arkham asked, his voice a low drawl.

I shot him my best innocent smile and raised my shackled hands to point at the thick file in his lap. "You have my file, you tell me."

He sighed impatiently. "Miss Williams—" he began, but I cut him off by asking, "You're too impatient, Doc. You have to be a patient person to be a shrink, don't ya?"

He looked about to roll his eyes, but managed to catch himself. "Miss Williams, do you remember you're last day at work? Do you remember what happened before you broke down?"

I yawned and leaned back in my chair, stretching my legs out in front of me. "Sure I remember. How could I forget? I ate the most disgusting blueberry muffin ever! I can still taste it in my mouth." I glared at him menacingly. "The food here is not much better, Doc. Maybe you should do something about that."

He completely ignored most of what I'd said. "What do you remember, Karma?"

I sighed. "Meetings. I had a couple meetings, I think. Yeah, one with the board and one with that sexist prick, Michaels. Fucking asshole is what he is!"

"What happened during these meetings?" Arkham asked calmly, scribbling notes on a legal pad.

I glared at the pen in his hands, annoyed by the scratching sound it made as it moved across paper. "Just boring meeting stuff. It was a waste of time, really. Anyway, Michaels wasn't happy about my attitude and during our private meeting in my office, he told me he'd fire me on the spot if I acted that way again." A thoughtful expression crossed my face. "Hmm, I vaguely remember him calling me a whore, too. Maybe not."

More notes. "Then what?"

I thought about it for a moment. "The pen. I had a pen in my hand. It was a silver pen with the bank logo on it." I snarled, "I hated that fucking pen!"

Arkham paused in his notes and looked up at me for a moment. Then he returned to his notes. I narrowed my eyes at him, but said nothing.

"Was it the pen that set you off?" he asked after a few more notes.

I shrugged. "Maybe," I muttered, shifting in the uncomfortable metal chair, my gaze drifting around the small cell. It wasn't my cell. My cell was much smaller than this. The walls were white, but looked rather yellow due to the dim yellow light overhead.

"Tell me what you remember." Arkham said, finally looking up at me. His expression was blank, but his eyes were calculating.

"I started tapping the pen on my desk. I remember thinking that I hated that fucking bank and then…nothing. I don't remember anything else." Quickly, I leaned forward, resting my forearms on my knees. "What was it about the pen that sparked your interest, Doc?" Surprise flittered across his face and I sneered at him. "I'm pretty observant myself, _Doc._"

He hesitated, seeming to ponder whether or not he should tell me. "The pen—your pen—was found embedded in Richard Michael's left eye after your breakdown. You went into his office and beat his head in with a glass paperweight before stabbing him with the pen."

That now familiar pressure built up in my chest again, but I managed to restrain my laughter. I couldn't prevent my lips from quirking into a smirk. "Oh really? Then what did I do?"

Those calculating eyes raked over my face, probing mine as he tried to figure something out. He dropped his pen onto the legal pad and closed the folder, tossing it onto the table.

"You found Michaels' handgun in a desk drawer. When a security guard came into the office to see what was happening, you shot him in the head. Another guard immediately followed him. You killed your assistant, Laura, on your way back to your office; shot her twice in the head. You killed one more guard on your way out and the doorman."

I frowned. "Laura? Really?" Arkham nodded. "That's too bad. She was a good kid. I think she wanted to be some kind of actress. And the doorman? Frank? Shit. He was good company." My tone was dull, not really remorseful. Just…dull.

I stared at the floor and Arkham stared at me, waiting. When I finally raised my eyes to his, I lost it. The laughter bubbled up from my chest, crazy and high-pitched. I'd never been one to laugh often. I guess I was making up for lost time.

When my laughter finally subsided, I grinned at Arkham.

"What's so amusing, Karma?" he asked calmly. He hadn't moved an inch during my fit of laughter. He hadn't flinched or anything. He'd remained calm.

I shrugged. "Guess I never thought I had it in me."

He waited one more minute before asking, "Do you feel any remorse for those people?"

I thought about it for a moment. "No. That's sounds bad, but no. I know I _should_, but I just don't." My grin widened. "I've never shot a gun before. Before Wednesday, anyway. Not once in my entire life. I must be a natural or something."

That's when he slipped up. His eyes hardened into a glare. I just managed to glimpse it before he regained control.

"What the fuck is your problem, Doc?" I snarled, glaring at him.

Before he could answer, the timer on his desk went off, signaling the end of our session.

"Time's up. I'll take you back to your cell now." He stood up, leaving the folder on the table. He turned to the door behind him and knocked twice. A second later, a guard unlocked the door and pulled it open. Two guards came in and unlocked the chains that had held me to the chair. They hauled me up and lead me out into the corridor.

Suddenly, a voice was heard throughout the Asylum. _"Dr. Arkham to the lobby, please. Dr. Arkham to the lobby."_

We were headed in that direction anyway. We had to pass by the lobby to get into the elevator, which lead up to maximum-security.

Arkham mumbled something under his breath, leading the way. I grinned at his back and cooed, "Somebody's popular."

He ignored me as we climbed some stairs up to the next floor. Arkham lead the way down the dimly lit hallway, but instead of going straight, towards the elevator, he took a sharp right, opening a set of double doors that lead into the lobby.

Maniacal laughter pierced the air when the doors opened. I stopped in front of the doors, peering into the room.

My jaw nearly dropped to the floor when I recognized the figure dressed in a purple suit trying to break free of the guards' grasps. His greasy green hair shined in the brighter lights of the lobby, his face paint smeared across his face, the black around his eyes running down his face, along with the red that covered his lips and scars.

The Joker.

My heart pounded hard in my chest with excitement as the Joker was restrained and dragged forward toward the doors. I glimpsed Arkham standing off to the side, talking to a bespectacled man that looked slightly familiar.

After a moment of thought, I remembered his name. Jim Gordon or Commissioner Gordon, the man who'd "risen from the grave". Everyone had thought him dead, but he'd only been in hiding for a while.

The laughter reached a surprisingly high pitch, shocking me a little. _He's almost as loud as me!_ I thought with a grin. I could feel my own maniacal laughter building up again.

I smiled widely, shifting from foot to foot excitedly. I giggled as the Joker continued to thrash against the guards.

Just as he reached the door, he spotted me. I'd backed away to give him and the guards room to pass, but they all paused when they saw me.

"Well, well, well," Joker grinned at me, his eyes giving me a quick onceover. "_What _have we here?"

I returned his grin, walking right up to him. "The name's Karma." I said, bowing low. I smirked up at him. "I'm a bitch."

He barked a laugh. "So I hear."

**(A/N: For anyone who didn't pick up on this, I'm referring to the well-known phrase "Karma's a bitch.")**

As I stood up straight again, he gave me another onceover, this one slower. I blushed. To cover it up, I turned to the guard on Joker's right. "Brian! Long time no see! How's your dick?"

The guard glared at me and did not respond. He glanced over his shoulder at Arkham, who he was apparently waiting for.

As Joker watched with fascination, I stepped closer to Brian. "Oh, come one, Brian. Don't be such a sourpuss." I turned back to the Joker, who raised a quizzical brow. I sighed. "He grabbed me, I kicked him. Maybe a little too hard." I smirked wickedly. "He went down in a second. I thought he was going to cry."

The slap came out of nowhere. I seriously wasn't expecting it. Brian's hand came out fast, backhanding me so hard that I crashed into the wall behind me.

I gave my head a little shake, turning my wide-eyes unto Brian, who was red in the face with rage. I stared at him for a second before I doubled over, howling with insane laughter.

"Crazy bitch!" I heard Brian snarl.

I halted in my laughter to flash him a toothy grin. "One of a kind!" Then I dissolved into laughter again.

When I realized I wasn't the only one laughing, I started to calm down, my attention turning back to the Joker, who was now doubled over. I stared at him in awe before giggling along with his insane and somewhat scary laughter.

I was starting to realize just how my own laughter affected others. And I was also starting to realize that the Joker and I had quite a bit in common. We've both killed people and didn't care about it. We both laughed a lot, though no one laughed with us and we saw humor in things others would never deem as humorous.

Our kind of psychosis is rare, though quite enjoyable.

Finally, Arkham was done with his chat with the commissioner. He appeared behind the Joker, his low drawl breaking through the laughter. "Come on, Joker, we've got a new cell for you."

The Joker snapped his head around, staring at Arkham like he was seeing him for the first time. Then he looked back at me and grinned. "Oh, you are going to be _fun!_"

I smirked, though a part of me was certain I should be just a tad afraid. I wasn't. Fear wasn't something I often felt these days. I was quite content laughing at everything and nothing.

…

The Joker was taken to a cell on one of the lower levels first and that confused me a bit. When he was finally brought up to my level—in some sense, brought _down_—I realized they'd only taken him down there to question him. Or whatever.

As luck would have it, they placed Joker in the cell right across from mine. I was standing in front of my door, which is mostly made of thick glass, when they brought him up. Excitement burned inside me and I was absolutely euphoric when they shoved him roughly into cell 726.

When he turned and caught sight of me behind my glass door, he howled with laughter, causing me to giggle in return.

"Evening, Joker," I said with my best smile. There were small openings in all the doors, at eye level, so you could talk through them.

He flashed his yellow teeth at me. "_Evening,_ Karma." he drawled.

I yawned and turned my back to him. I lowered myself onto my cot, lying on my back. I watched him through the glass door as a guard removed his shackles. This was when I noticed he wasn't wearing his purple suit anymore and his makeup was gone, only a few traces of the white along his hairline.

I frowned. "Such a shame." I muttered.

He'd been keeping his eye on the guard, but at my words, he looked at me questioningly.

I grinned and looked up at the ceiling. "You look much better in the suit." My grin widened as I added, "Not that you don't pull off the white jumpsuit."

He chuckled lowly, staring at me in surprise. I watched him out of the corner of my eye, watched as the guard yelled out orders for the Joker's cell to be closed.

As the door slammed shut, I closed my eyes and smiled to myself. I chuckled quietly when I felt the Joker's eyes watching me, burning into my skin. I kept my eyes closed, drumming my fingers against my stomach, knowing that things were about to get very interesting.

**Tell me what you think. This will most likely just be a one-shot, but if I get enough reviews, I might continue with it. I have some ideas and I think I know where this could go, but if I don't get enough reviews, I probably won't bother.**

**Damn it, this was the rough draft. I uploaded and deleted the wrong ones. Shit. Oh well, sorry if this is full of mistakes. My bad. It's been a long day…**

**Well, this gives me the opportunity to tell you that if I do end up continuing with this, the chapters won't be so long. Also, I feel I should tell you that I'm very fascinated with the human mind and how it works. I don't know a lot, but when it comes to the brain, ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE. I've seen proof of this. For some reason, I felt I should tell you that. Maybe I'm hinting at what is to come. That is, if I get enough reviews to motivate and urge me to continue!**

**REVIEW!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Stop, Drop and Kill**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own a damn thing. I don't even own Karma. Nobody can own Karma. Karma owns us! Ha ha…ha. Okay, yeah I own Karma the Character. But that's all.

**Warning: **Karma Has A Foul Mouth!

**Chapter Two**

Arkham was not a quiet place. We, the criminally insane, didn't want it to be. Things were far more interesting when we conversed with one another. The silence…was so boring.

Unfortunately, this almost always led to loud arguments that echoed off the walls. And today, _I_ had started the argument, though it hadn't been intentional. I just happened to have a very nasty temper.

I kept forgetting what we were even arguing about…

"Why don't you step out of your cell and say that, honey!"

"If it wasn't locked, numb nuts, I would!" I rolled my eyes at the stupidity of the man in the cell next to mine, the one and only Jonathan Crane.

"Excuses!" he countered, but to me, it only made him sound more stupid. _Didn't he use to be a professor?_

I was so fucking honored to occupy the cell next to such a mastermind. _Gag._

"What the fuck! Are you the Joker's fucking mother now? Telling the bullies to back off your precious boy?"

"Wai_t_ a, uh, minute. My _mother—_"

"Shut up, Joker. Nobody is talking to you!" the one-time director of this very asylum snapped.

"We're talking _about_ him, numb nuts!" I reminded him with yet another eye-roll.

"Karma, stop calling him that. You're pissing him off."

The voice that rarely spoke came from the cell to the right—my right—of the Joker's cell, across from Crane's cell. The red-haired man was sitting on his cot, legs folded beneath him, eyes slightly apprehensive.

_The Riddler._

"Fuck him and the horse he rode in on!" I snarled.

The apprehension in his eyes dwindled and he smirked. "You know, once upon a time, he did ride a horse. I saw it!"

"You're shitting me, right? Crow-boy on a fucking pony? I'd kill to see that!" _Hysterical!_

"It was truly a magnificent sight."

Silence.

"What the fuck were we even talking about?" I asked, brows furrowed as I stared up at the ceiling.

"My _mother_, I believe. Or…my, uh, _smile._"

I shot Joker a wide grin. "Oh, yes! The greasepaint. Anyway, my point is, you pull it off. The whole outfit and clown getup just works for you."

I honestly didn't care how it sounded. Honestly, I didn't care about a whole helluva lot these days. I rarely thought before I spoke anymore.

"Why thank you, _Karma_." Joker grinned a toothy grin, his scars stretching across his cheeks.

"This is sickening." Riddler groaned.

"Get a room!" Crane snapped.

"That's even more sickening."

"Now why would the Joker and I need a room? We're all just talking here." I couldn't help but giggle. The shred of sanity that was still clinging to the back of my mind told me I should be horrified and disgusted by what Crow-boy was implying.

I wasn't.

"Now that's a riddle not even _I_ am interested in solving." The redhead's groans became louder.

Laughter. Giggles. Groans. Hysterics. Scoffs.

"Yeah right. Joker probably doesn't even know what to do with a woman." The ex-director scoffed.

Pause.

_This should be interesting._ I thought, giggling in anticipation.

"Oh _really_?" Joker rolled off his cot and stepped up to his door, looking into Scarecrow's cell. As always, a wicked grin adorned his face.

"Come on, Clown boy, when was the last time a woman even _looked_ at you?"

"Uh, women look at me _all_ the _time_."

"With lust, not fear, Joker." Crane muttered icily. I could just imagine him rolling his eyes.

"Last nigh_t_." came Joker's smooth and quick reply.

Pause.

"Liar." Crane insisted.

"Who?" I had to ask.

"My lovely _doc_tor-ah."

Snickers.

"Her name's Harley, right?" Riddler asked with a thoughtful expression.

"That's righ_t._"

I almost gagged. "Now _that_ is sickening! Fucking pathetic!"

"Jealous, Karma?"

"No, _Scarecrow_. Seriously, she calls him 'Puddin' in that annoying accent of hers. She literally _drools_ all over him. How she's not locked up in here with us yet is beyond me."

"Sounds like your jealous."

"I'm not fucking jealous, Crow-boy!"

"It kind of sounds that way, Karma."

"Nigma, shut the fuck up!"

"I'm just saying!"

"Well…don't."

"Defensive much?"

Snarl.

"I'm going to gouge your fucking eyes out, Crane!"

Giggles.

"Oh, now _that_ sounds like _fun!_"

"Can it, Clown!" I snapped.

Silence.

_Oh, fuck it._

Double maniacal laughter. We, the clown and I, broke down into fits of giggles, unable to hold it in. It wasn't an uncommon occurrence.

"They're perfect for each other! Just listen to them!"

"Nigma, for once, you're absolutely right."

**A/N: If this is confusing, good. I wanted it to be. I didn't intend to post this. This was all kind of random. I wrote all the dialogue first and had so much fun doing it. I didn't intend to actually add it to my story, but I realized it was kind of perfect for it, so I added more detail to it and…voila!**

**This is what this story is going to be like. Random bits and pieces here and there (some chapters with mostly dialogue, some with very little), but there's going to be a point to it all. Karma and Joker are going to get closer, become allies. And then later, it's going to become a bit more (Yay for twisted romances!)**

**As for the Harley/Joker relationship…*sigh*…that's still going to happen, but Harley is not going to stick around for very long. I am NOT a fan of Harley Quinn.**

**Updates are going to be slow. I'm really focusing on my other story (A Scarecrow's Obsession) so don't expect daily updates. That's impossible right now. To make up for the wait, the chapters are going to be nice and long (at least, longer than I usually write). There are no limits on these chapters.**

**Hope you enjoyed it. Please Review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Stop, Drop and Kill**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything.

**Author's Note: **This one won't be in Karma's POV. For the most part, this story will be in her POV. There is no particular reason for this change. I just started writing it like this and decided to keep it this way.

**Chapter Three**

**10 a.m., Monday**

"So, Karma, would you mind telling me why you were up so early this morning?" Harley asked, a rather disinterested expression on her face.

"Would you mind not being a nosy bitch?" Karma grumbled as she scraped dried blood off her fingers.

Harley rolled her eyes. "It's my job to ask these questions, Karma."

"And we all know how good you are at your job." Karma replied with a smirk.

"What's that suppose to mean?"

"Joker talks about you a lot, you know. I think he likes you." Karma said, feigning a yawn and stretching her arms over her head.

Harley immediately straightened in her chair, a blush dusting her cheeks.

Karma snorted. "You see, that reaction is a very clear indicator."

"Indicator of what?" Harley snapped.

"Your unprofessionalism. I don't want to be questioned by someone who is infatuated with a psychotic criminal."

"I am not!"

"No need to shout, Harley. But just so you know, that defensive tone doesn't help your case."

"You're out of your mind!" Harley hissed.

Karma grinned a nasty grin. "So I've been told."

**10:30 a.m.**

"So Karma, what did you say to upset Harley?" Dr. Derricks asked with interest. "She was quite distraught."

"Oh, not much. She's just overly sensitive." Karma shrugged. "I just _mentioned _her infatuation with her patient."

Dr. Derricks looked shocked. "She's infatuated with a patient? Which patient?"

"The Joker. She's practically obsessed with him." Karma rolled her eyes in disgust. "How unprofessional is that?"

Dr. Derricks tapped his chin thoughtfully. While he processed this information, Karma took a good look at him. He was quite handsome and seemed to be the only person in Arkham who didn't wear a suit or uniform. He wore simple tan trousers, a crisp white shirt and a rather colorful sweater vest. Karma had only seen the blond-haired hunk once before, fleetingly.

"Who the hell are you, anyway?" Karma asked suddenly.

"I'm Matthew Derricks. I'll be taking over for Dr. Arkham while he's…recovering." He paused for a moment before asking, "Would you like to talk about what you did to Arkham, Karma?"

"Not particularly, but I suppose we should get it out of the way." Karma said with a shrug.

"First of all, why were you up so early this morning, if you don't mind me asking?"

Karma smiled brightly and said, "Of course I don't mind. I was just excited about my sister coming to visit me today."

"You have a sister?"

"Yes. My trial is in a few days. She's coming with a lawyer to talk to me. I'm not sure when. They still won't give me the details." Karma frowned. "I think everyone thinks I'm crazy."

"Do you think you're crazy, Karma?" Derricks asks calmly.

"No."

"You don't?"

"I'm not crazy." she said firmly, then started laughing. "I'm insane!"

Dr. Derricks leaned forward, waiting out Karma's fit of giggles. When she'd calmed down, he continued with his questioning. "Karma, do you remember what happened this morning with Dr. Arkham?"

Still smiling, Karma nodded cheerfully. "Of course I do. How could I forget?"

"What happened?"

Karma's smile started fading away. "I…we had a session. And then he was questioning me about why I was awake so early. And I told him…I told him what I told you. I was excited. And he started irritating me with all his questions. I told him to stop. I was tired." Her smile was completely gone now, replaced with another frown.

"And then?" Derricks prodded.

"I…don't know." She looked up at him with a confused look. "Wasn't that all?"

Dr. Derricks frowned and shook his head. "You stabbed him in the chest with a pen, Karma. You don't remember that?"

Karma stared in shock. "I…stabbed him? With a pen?"

"Yes."

"Where did I get the pen?" Karma wondered out loud.

"I believe it was his pen."

Karma's lips twitched. "I stabbed him with his own pen."

"Yes," Derricks said slowly. _Maybe she can't comprehend—_

Giggles burst forth from the madwoman, growing into hysterical laughter. For a moment—only a moment—Matthew Derricks was consumed by the contagious laughter, chuckling softly, but as soon as he realized what Karma was laughing at, he stopped.

When Karma didn't stop laughing after a full minute, Derricks stood and, with a sigh and a deep frown, turned to the door. "Guards! Sessions over!"

**11:24 a.m.**

"Karma, you must be on your best behavior, understand?" Derricks said, standing outside of her cell.

Karma bounced up and down on the balls of her feet, which were now bare. "Okay, okay, I promise!" she said enthusiastically.

"Ha! Right, like she's capable." Crane's voice drifted from his own cell. "She'll be back in five minutes."

"Twenty bucks says she's back in ten." Nigma said from across the way.

"Shut up, Riddler!" Karma snapped.

"You're on," Crane said. Karma could hear the sneer in his voice.

Karma rolled her eyes, waiting for the guard to unlock her cell. As soon as it was open and she stepped out, Derricks asked, "Karma, where are your shoes?"

Karma's brows furrowed as she looked down. "Uhm…I haven't the slightest idea!" she exclaimed. She looked back into her cell. "No idea, no idea."

"We'll have the guard search your cell while you're with your sister. If they aren't found, I'll get you some new ones."

"Going to see your, uh, _sister?_" Joker asked.

Karma smiled brilliantly at him. "I am, I am! Haven't seen her in years!"

"Ah, a nice, uh, family reunion." Joker mumbled with a grin.

"Five minutes, Karma!" Crane called out as Derricks started leading me away. "Don't let me down, _sweetie_!"

Karma grumbled under her breath.

Minutes later, Derricks ushered her into a small room with a metal table in the center and three metal chairs. A woman and man were already seated and waiting. The woman looked up as Karma was shoved into her chair by a guard, who locked her handcuffs to a small bar on the tabletop.

Karma shrugged at her sister. "Cozy, huh, Lily?"

Lily Williams stared at her sister with wide eyes. The woman before her in no way resembled the woman she once knew. "Karma?"

"In the flesh!" Karma exclaimed with a grin. "Shocking, huh?"

"Is that blood?" the man next to Lily asked, looking a little queasy as he studied her cuffed hands.

Karma looked down to see there was still some blood left over from the Arkham incident on her fingernails. "Ah, yes. I had a bit of an…accident with my therapist."

"What kind of accident?" Lily asked sharply, a look of disbelief on her face.

"I have no recollection of the incident, but apparently I stabbed him with his own pen!" Karma explained in a hushed voice, sounding amazed "Strange, isn't it?"

"Oh, my God!" Lily gasped. "Karma, what the hell happened to you?" she demanded. "You…you're completely…"

"Insane?" Karma chuckled. "Yes, I am. I do believe I am!"

"Karma!"

"Okay, maybe we should discuss—"

"Karma, what happened? Was it your job? Were you unhappy? Why didn't you call?"

Karma cocked her head to the side, staring at her sister in wonder. "You dyed your hair!" she suddenly exclaimed. "I knew there was something different about you."

"Miss Williams, let's stay on topic, shall we?"

Karma looked at the pale man in the cheap suit. "Please don't tell me you're my lawyer."

"I am, actually." He straightened in his chair, trying to look more professional. "Miss Williams, I think we should—"

"Call me Karma." Karma gestured between herself and her sister. "It'll get confusing if you address us both as 'Miss Williams'."

"Okay, Karma, we really need to discuss—"

"Then again, I don't think we are really on a first name basis. I don't know you. I don't even know your name." Karma leaned over the table, closer to him. "And to be perfectly honest, I don't really want to know your name."

He growled in frustration, "Miss Williams, we really have to—"

"Hey, now, don't get all pissed off. I'm just being honest!"

"Karma, what the hell is wrong with you?" Lily demanded. "Let him talk!"

"I don't want to let him talk. I don't want to hear what he has to say." A nasty grin had plastered itself on her face. She was thoroughly enjoying this meeting. She examined the lawyer more closely. "Where the hell did you buy that suit? Looks cheap. I'm going to guess…garage sale?"

He leaned back in his chair, indignant. He glared at Karma, his lips pressing into a thin line.

"And is that a coffee stain on your shirt? Jesus, Lily, where'd you find this guy? Did you pick him up off the street?"

"Karma!"

Karma started giggling again. "Thank you, sister. I feel much better now that I know that this guy is representing me."

"Miss Williams," The lawyer turned to Lily. "I'm afraid I cannot represent this woman." He grabbed his briefcase and stood up.

"Wait! Why?" Lily jumped to her feet, eyes wide with panic. "Please, she's just…she's just being difficult right now. I'll talk to her."

"I'm sorry, Miss Williams."

"Thanks for coming." Karma called out as he left.

"Karma, you are such a—"

"Bitch?" she finished, her shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter.

Lily huffed in exasperation. "I was going to say _child!_"

Karma shrugged and continued laughing as her sister ran after the lawyer.

**11:33 a.m.**

"Nine minutes! She lasted nine minutes!" Nigma laughed from his cell as Karma was shoved none too gently into her own.

"And I'm out twenty bucks. Thanks, Karma." Crane snarled.

Karma chuckled. "So Nigma wins?"

She was answered with a couple snorts and the Joker's giggles.

"Nope, I'm out twenty bucks, too." Nigma admitted. "Joker wins."

Karma leaned against the door of her cell, gazing across the way into Joker's cell. He was sitting with his back pressed against his own door. "You guessed nine minutes, didn't you, Joker?"

"Yes. Yes, I _did!"_ He managed to say before collapsing in giggles.

"So, how was the reunion with your sister?" Nigma asked.

"It was…fun." Karma said with a grin. "She brought a lawyer to ask me questions. He stormed out before he could ask anything."

"Why am I not surprised?" Crane grumbled.

Karma just shrugged her shoulders and yawned.

"Uh oh," Nigma muttered suddenly. "Incoming, Karma. Guard."

"What?" Karma pressed her face closer to the door, glancing down the hall. She could hear the guard's footsteps echoing off the walls, but she couldn't see who was coming until they'd already passed Nigma's cell. "Shit." she hissed, backing away from the door as it slid open.

As the tall, dark-haired guard stepped into her cell, she plastered a smile on her face and greeted him warmly, "Brian! It's been awhile. Where've you been?"

Brian's face twisted into a nasty grin. "Oh, around. I hear you attacked Arkham this morning?"

Karma nodded, her smile still in place. "Yup."

If possible, Brian's grin got nastier. "That's why I'm here, honey."

Karma pouted. "Not because you missed me?"

Joker giggled from his cell, but that was the only other sound except for the low moaning coming from one of the patients down the hall.

"Sorry, Karma," He didn't sound sorry at all. "I'm here to take you to solitary. You have to be punished."

Karma stared at him for a few long moments before asking, "Hey, can I borrow a pen for a sec?"

**A/N: This one was kinda long. Hope you enjoyed it. Sorry for the long wait (and for any spelling errors). I update this when I can. Next chapter will be about Karma's experience in solitary confinement. I might throw in a straightjacket or two. Also, if you have any ideas for the story, by all means, let me know. I'll take everything into consideration.**


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